Big Time Jobs
by MinuteCloser2Failing
Summary: Gustavo found a way for Carlos to pay off the eight-thousand dollars for the coffee machine. N/C


**Edit #2: Okay, whoever sent this to Stephen Glickman is an ass. They shouldn't have to deal with this kind of stuff. I do this for ME and I know putting it on the internet means that anyone can have access to it but use some fucking common sense and not show it to the people who plays the characters that the story fucking depicts. It's so fucking immature and it hurts both the writer and the readers. Just in case, I DULY APOLOGIZE FOR ANYONE UNCOMFORTABLE WITH THIS MATTER AND THE CHARACTERS USED IN THE WRITING OF THIS STORY.**

**And FUCK YOU ASSHOLE. I'll write whatever the HELL I please. Ever think that's my way of coping with shit in MY life? Oooo I used fictional characters who happen to be portrayed by real life people to screw around with other people's minds- boofuckingHOO. Leave me the hell alone and go sniff some shit or something.**

**Ionno, I'm in a ranting mood. So fuck me too. **

**Edit: I am LOVING everyone's reviews! LOL. "Omg this made me wanna puke but it was so hot." "Omg this is disgusting. But so ..hot!" "I can't stop puking. This was awesome but I'm seriously puking." I love you guys. xDD**

Besides. This was so canon. It so was. ADMIT IT D:

Come on. This had to happen sooner or later. And that episode last night... Holy shit. It's like begging this to happen. So much white foamy stuff spraying all over Carlos... -drools-

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Carlos slammed his helmet onto his head, somewhat startled as their manager, Gustavo, began yelling at him for breaking that stupid evil coffee-maker machine.

Normally this wouldn't be so bad. The four of them would just let it go in one ear and out through the other but the Latino managed to catch the man- who was already fuming from having to wash cars the entire day yesterday in order to pay back a small fraction of the $14,089 that they owed Griffin- alone while he ran back to get the helmet that he forgotten after rehearsal that day in the man's office in his rush to get the hell out of there with the rest of the guys. The comments were harsh, unrelentless. And honestly, even though he seemed to always be a happy-go-lucky, carefree kind of guy, those juvenile, yet equally spirit-crushing insults that Gustavo never seems to run out of is just chipping away at his confidence bit by bit. It was starting to take a toll on him.

"AND you manage to FUCK up something as simple as getting coffee from an automatic coffee maker. How retarded can you be to mess that up?" Carlos cringed and looked away from the man who was inches away from his face.

"I didn't mean to.. it's just- It wouldn't stop making foam..." his voice softened at the end of the sentence.

Gustavo stared at the down-cast kid, somewhat surprised to see the loud, annoying, helmet-wearing stump being so quiet and... upset?... by his insults. The pathetic look on the dog's face was disturbingly pleasing. The dogs never gave this kind of reaction when they were together. He looks like he's about to cry. What a wuss. He snorted before cleared his voice, placing a hand on the boy's shoulder. Carlos looked up, his face looking like a puppy that just got yelled at. Looking seriously at the short boy, he said, "You do know you're going to have to work off the $8000?"

"Ah but I- How am I gonna get that much money?" Carlos cried out, his shoulders drooping at the ridiculous amount of money he owed for a freaking coffee machine. He groaned, looking defeated.

"Well," Gustavo looked at the kid thoughtfully. "You could be my office assistant again."

"Really?" Carlos looked up at him, surprised that the man would even offer him that chance after what happened earlier. "How long would it take for me to get eight thousand bucks?" Shouldn't be too long right?

"Oh about a couple of months or so."

"What? But I got $500 for working for like 2 hours yesterday!"

"That was to try and teach you dogs a lesson. Which you all obviously didn't get. Why would I pay anyone to do mundane tasks such as getting coffee and sharpening my pencils $250 an hour?" his voice began to rise again at the thought of all the crap he went through because of those boys. "It's not like you have anything better to do. I bet you don't even have a girlfriend to make smoochy-faces with! I mean who'd go out with a freak who wears a stupid helmet all the time?"

He gasped, bringing up a shaky hand to touch his helmet. The girlfriend part was true. Hell he's never even had his first kiss but ..."I-I like my helmet..."

Gustavo let out a hiss of air. It was giving him tingles in his lower regions just watching the boy squirm at his comments. I have GOT to calm down. "Either you take the job and get the hell out of here or you can just get the hell out of here!"

"I'll do it!" Carlos slapped his helmet with both hands with a determined look on his face. Nodding at the man, he turned leave the office but managed to run right into the piano, knocking into the fresh cup of coffee that Gustavo had gotten earlier. Carlos gasped as somewhat hot coffee and foam spilled all over his shirt and pants, and the piano. "I-I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to-" he looked back and forth between the wet instrument and Gustavo. Damn it why was he so clumsy? "Am I gonna have to pay for that too?"

Roaring, Gustavo grabbed the boy's smaller shoulders and slammed him against the piano, breathing harder when he heard the pained cry come from Carlos' mouth. "Damn it Carlos! Why the hell do you always have to do this?"

Carlos flinched at the man's volume, along with the spit spraying in his face. "It was an accident, Gustavo! I'll do whatever it takes to pay it off," the boy pleaded, feeling really bad for all the crap he's been making Gustavo go through. The throbbing of his back, the spiking pain of the spilt coffee, and the heavy man's weight pressing him against the piano even more wasn't helping. "Um...Could you get off of me?"

"No."

Carlos looked up at Gustavo, confused.

"You see. I have had enough." Gustavo breathed heavily into his face. The man leaned over, shuddering slightly as he felt the boy squirmed, no doubt uncomfortable with the extreme closeness of the heavy-set man. "This whole... Big Time Rush thing... You dogs make me so fucking hard every. Single. Day. I'm sick of it."

Carlos froze, unsure of what to say to that before laughing nervously, "You feel soft to me." He poked at Gustavo's face. "I-in fact, you're kind of really squishy, s-so I'm just gonna go." Carlos tried to pry the big man's arms off his shoulders to no avail. "Excuse me?..."

Is he really that dumb? Gustavo grabbed the boy's left hand and not too gently moved it to cup the erection that was pushing against the fabric of his baggy sweatpants. Carlos yelped, trying to pull his hand back but the man's hold on his hand was too strong. The boy looked up at the man, shocked. That dawning of realization, that flashing of terror in his eyes when he put two and two together. Those brown eyes wide, mouth slightly open, god it was so fucking hot.

"Get off of me!" Carlos shoved him as hard as he could, causing the heavy man to stumble backwards. As he tried to gain his balance, Carlos made a dash for the door. He probably would've made it too.

If he hadn't tripped.

Gustavo took that opportunity to grab hold of the back of the boy's collar, pull him up, and slam him against the wall, holding him against the wall by his neck. The impact caused the boy to let out a small squeak. "Now listen here, dog." Gustavo pressed his body against the boy's back, making damn sure that the kid could feel his growing erection. Carlos breathed in sharply, trying hard to press himself against the wall to get away from the contact. "If you tell anyone what's going to happen here, I'll make sure that you and your friends catch the first plane back to that nameless town you call home to live out the rest of your days as a pretty little fry cook, taking orders for some fuck-ups who would probably catch you alone in a dark alley one day and do the exact same thing that I'm going to do to you here."

Carlos choke back a cry and bucked, trying to get him off. Gustavo moaned at the contact of the boy's firm ass against his groin. Carlos tensed at the noise.

Gustavo turned him around so he could see his face. "No. But I can damn well make sure that the Big Time Rush track to stardom stops right now. I'm sure that other boy band that I met up with will do way better than you four," he lied, seeing how he gave them away to some other record company. Of course the dog didn't know that. "And they actually listen to me." He ran his hands under the boy's shirt, feeling his smooth hairless chest. "Now we're going to do this- easy way, hard way, you chose."  
The kid was on the verge of crying, he could feel it. This is probably the most action he has ever gotten in his entire life, next to his mom kissing him on the forehead. The thought of that just fueled his lust through the roof. Gustavo lifted Carlos' chin up. Heh, he was right. The boy's tears were threatening to spill over. The man leaned in for a kiss. "No!" Carlos moved back, hitting the back of his helmet against the wall. Of course that wouldn't stop the heavy-set man. He pulled off the helmet, throwing it aside, and grabbed a handful of his soft, tussled hair, hungrily devouring his lips, his other hand reaching to pull out his throbbing erection.

Gustavo bit the Latino's bottom lip hard, drawing blood. Carlos yelped in pain, allowing him to push his tongue through the orifice, exploring the boy's mouth and ignoring the pathetic struggle that the short Latino was putting up. He pulled away. The kid was full out crying now, the blood trailing down his chin making him look so fucking delicious. He chuckled and started licking the blood and tears.

"Gustavo please don't do this," Carlos whimpered, trying to move away from the man's slobbering tongue, but the tight grip on his hair kept him painfully in place. "I'm sorry about the piano. And the coffee."

"I don't give a shit about that," the man breathed out heavily, "And last I remembered, dogs don't talk."

He pushed Carlos down to his knees, his fat dick bobbing inches away from his face. Carlos' eyes widen. He grabbed Gustavo's hand with both hands, which was still intertwined in his hair, and tried to pull away. That stopped when the man shook the kid. Hard. Carlos winced. He could feel some of his hair being ripped out of its roots. "Either you get this nice and wet for when I shove this up your tight ass or you could take it dry. And I'm sure you don't want to take it dry." Not that he knew the difference. But dry sounded bad. It sounded really bad.

"I-" Gustavo interrupted him.

"If the next thing that you do does not involve sucking my big, fat dick then I'll take it as a 'Fuck me like the bitch that I am,'" the man growled, getting impatient with the hesitant boy. He pressed the tip of his cock against Carlos' lips. "Open." Carlos shut his eyes tightly, hesitantly opening his mouth. Gustavo shoved his dick in, making the boy gag a bit and began thrusting in. "Fuck I knew that nasty mouth of yours would be good at this. Bet you practice on those friends of yours. You suck 'em off whenever they want?" Carlos whimpered, the vibration sending shivers through Gustavo's body. He choked on his cock, struggling to breath with it pumping in and out of his mouth. After a few more thrusts, he pulled out, a string of saliva breaking off between the two. Gustavo released his grip on Carlos' hair. "Get up."

Carlos bit his lower lip and looked up at the man before him with his tear-streaked eyes, shaking. "Why-..." he looked away, "why are you doing this?"

Gustavo snorted. Of course the dog had to try and delay what he got coming to him. "Why don't you stop asking stupid questions and get the hell up!" He pulled Carlos up to his feet, pushing him back over to his desk. The Latino stopped himself from toppling over the sleek black desk by using his hands, leaving him in the perfect position for Gustavo to press his body on his. The heavy-set man grabbed one of the boy's arm, twisting it upright behind his back hard. Gustavo shoved two fat fingers inside the boy's screaming mouth, choking him once more. "Suck them," he grunted, pulling his arm up close to the point of dislocation. He felt a sharp intake of air and then the boy's soft velvety tongue as it curled itself around his digits, wetting them. Fuck if the boy wasn't good with his tongue. He always knew that he'd be fucking one of the dogs, just never thought it'd be the one wearing the helmet. He always thought he'd get James seeing how the tall pretty boy so desperately wanted to be the star of the show.

Doesn't matter now though. He has got one of them pinned against his desk, whimpering, his damp shirt bunched up showing off half of that delicious tan back, the round ass under his pants just begging to be violated.

He took his fingers out of the boy's mouth, and switched his hold on his arm, not lessening the pressure of his grip. He placed a hand on the boy's pants, slowly pulling it down. He paused slightly at the sudden sob that came the boy beneath him. "Please don't do this Gustavo." Carlos' shoulders were hunched up, his whole body trembling, his face hidden from view with his free arm. "Please."

Gustavo ignored the pleas, yanked the wet pants and boxers the rest of the way off, letting it drop to the ground, and shoved the two saliva-slicked finger into the boy's virgin hole roughly, earning a cry of pain from the body beneath him. "God you're so fucking tight around my fingers. I thought one of your little boy-friends would've fucked your ass by now." He pulled out his fingers, unable to wait any longer to sink his throbbing dick in to the boy's small hole. "Let's see if you can screw this up." He rammed in, relishing the scream that teared from the boy's mouth.

"GOD! Please stop Gustavo!" Carlos cried out, the white-hot pain tore through his lower regions, "It- i- Me duele! Por favor, alguien ayúdeme!"

"Fuck. Say some more of that Spanish crap," Gustavo thrusted faster, loving the accent on the boy as he begged him to stop in his native tongue. James couldn't have done that. A spasm of the boy's hole brought him back. "Shit you are so fucking tight." He pushed in deeper, surprised to hear a moan of pain mixed with...pleasure?...coming from the boy below him. He thrusted in to the same spot, pulling out another reluctant moan followed by a choked cry. Gustavo released his grip on Carlos' arm- though he probably didn't realize it since he didn't budge- and reached under Carlos, feeling his slightly hardened length, causing the boy to gasp and thrust into his hand. "You little slut." Thrust. "You're." Thrust. "Actually." Thrust. "Enjoying this."

"No," he whimpered, shaking his head, ashamed at his body's reaction as he tried to block out the slight tingle of pleasure and concentrate on the pain. Gustavo began stroking his dick. "Don't touch me," he whispered pathetically, unable to hold the small squeaks of pleasure and the feeling of release that was quickly building up. It was hot everywhere. His whole body was burning up. He could feel Gustavo's mouth on his neck as it began to suck on the crook of his neck. He could feel the heavy man's sweat dripping down on him, mixing with his own. Why couldn't he just make it hurt?

Gustavo thrusted in once more, grunting as the boy cried out, cumming in his hand, his ass squeezing even tighter, if that was even possible, bringing his own sweet release. Gustavo pulled out of Carlos, for once satisfied with the dog, taking another look at those tan globes as a mixture of cum and blood dripped down his thighs. He looked down at himself and frowned. Walking around to the other side of the desk, he yanked Carlos' head up, smirking at the tear-stained face as it came face to face once again with his cock. "Clean it."

Carlos stuttered, unable to get any real words out at the order that was given.

Getting impatient, Gustavo grabbed his limp cock and shoved it in his mouth. Carlos gagged at the taste of his own blood and the man's cum and... he sobbed, sucking the man clean and getting it over with. He coughed after the length was removed, trying hard to not vomit.

Gustavo tucked himself away and straightened himself up, looking amused at the Latino as he stiffly moved to cover himself up with his own clothes.

Carlos wore on his helmet, securing it, and left as fast as he could manage. As he closed the door, he could feel his heart stop at the man's words.

"You can pay the rest back later."

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AP exams suck balls. And I don't speak Spanish. Google translator biittccchh.

Reviews? 8)


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